The Daily {W}Rite April 2o16 WK o1

April Fools' Day! Alright, I don't know if that's the right way to say it . . . WRITE it I mean. maybe it's April's Fool Day, or April Fool Day, or . . . hell, I don't know AND . . . I don't care! There, I said it. I don't give a damn how you say it! I know, I'm horrible, going my own way without consideration for the past, tradition. I mean, why do we even have an April Foolish Day? What good is it? Yes, I understand what your saying, I should look up it's history then I would know why it's important. But again, I don't want to. I love my ignorance, and I don't wish to mar its natural beauty with slashes and stabs of factual information that it are unimportant. I'm a deep thinker, not a contestant on Jeopardy. I'm steam punk wizard, Vietnam Vet, a U.S. Marine with a bad attitude towards silly knowledge. My stomach hurts. Too much junk food at the Medieval Fair today. I shall write a ton more later tonight . . . maybe! {smile}

Sunday, April o3, 2o16 3 a.m.
People get to me. Politics (again) gets to me. I told my Facebook friends
NOT to put anymore Bernie propaganda on my timeline. If they keep doing it,

I'm ending my relationship with them on Facebook and any relationship I might have with them in REAL life. Puts me in a bad position, yes. I'm libel  to lose my BEST friend over this. Well, not my BEST friend, my ONLY friend. I can't get through to these guys, so okay, I don't talk about politics with them. But they just keep going on and on posting all kinds of horrible stuff that's not true, but since it's on the "internet" they use it to demean the person I'm voting for. Yes, I say some things about Bernie, but none of it is based on internet "gossip" but based solely on what Bernie says about things and nothing more. They don't see Bernie, or they don't wish to see Bernie's faults even when they stick out like a gigantic sore thumb! So, I'm taking a stand against these "friends" of mine. They can choose to keep their eyes shut and lose me as a friend or they can wake up and at least start seeing that Bernie isn't God's gift to America.

But enough of this stuff. Friday was Medieval Fair in Norman-town for me and was it glorious fun! Nice, warm spring day filled with hundreds of costumed people, booths full of toys and fantasy clothing, hats, staffs and, yes, knives, swords and all kind of steampunk paraphernalia. I know, steampunk isn't Medieval but still loads of fun. Finally got me a pair of steampunk goggles and I'm looking to go back today (the last day) and maybe pick up some steampunk style gloves. All this to get a costume ready for SoonerCon which starts in June!  The only problem right now is that I don't know if I can afford to buy all the stuff I want for my costume. Well, I'll get what I can and keep looking for things I need and maybe buy later on in the months ahead!

One of the highlights of the Medieval Fair was Brendan and Mabry's  "Living Chess Board." What fun! They have two opposing kingdoms that hold battles on this big chess board, and the battles (broadswords, staffs, etc.) are choreographed beautifully. They also create wonderfully detailed stories that are full of humor, AND the costumes! That is the icing on the Medieval cake! ALL the characters in this play are costumed brilliantly. I'm really proud to know these kids. How creative they are.

1:48 p.m.
A stinging ache (if there is such a thing) in my neck kept me awake much longer than I wished to be. Finally I guess I just passed out . . . sometimes that's what going to sleep is for me . . . and the morning sun through the kitchen window blinds woke me up.

Okay, so I do finally get up and call my friend and he read the part of my blog where I'm steaming about the way the Berniers are treating Hillary and he takes exception to it and I feel bad now and also depressed because my Liberal idea of right and wrong is being compromised because people don't think that there are any rules to running for political office, they just want their guy to win. Yes, I'm mad and I'm unhappy because of something that happened after I got out of the Marine Corps. Yes, I know, I'm fuming over something that happened over 45 years ago?

When I joined the Marine Corps, I went in, under a program that put me in a group of other new recruits from my same hometown, La Puente, CA, and we as a group were together through boot camp. I'm guessing that "My Marine Corps" thought it would make boot camp a little easier if guys from the same hometown went through "Green Hell" together. Yeah, it sounds like a good idea but there was one problem. I was a little bit older than most of the guys in my hometown group. Most of them were straight out of high school and I'd been out of high school for two years. So, I really didn't know any of these guys. Anyway, we get through boot and we find out what our jobs were going to be in the Corps and then we went off to our different schools and . . . I never saw any of them again until about a year after I got out of the Marines.

I was sitting at the bar of one of my favorite watering holes in La Puente. "Hey, you Woodie?" I heard this voice behind me ask. I turned around and there was this tall, husky jarhead standing behind me, no smile on his face just a bunch of nasty looking scars starting at the hairline and exploding out in long jagged lines around his eyes and all the way down to his chin. It was a bit scary, but I did get out a shaky, "Yeah, I'm Woodie." And then the guy smiled real big and introduced himself. He was one of the guys I went into boot camp with. I smiled back. Okay, I didn't really recognize him, but why would a guy lie about something like that? I told him I was sorry but that I didn't remember his name and he said that's alright, that his name was . . . and I still, right now, can't remember his name. Anyway, he motioned over to a table and said he was having a beer with some other guys that where in the same boot camp platoon as we were and would I like to join them and of course I did. I hadn't run into any Vets since I had been out of the Corps so it was cool to sit with a bunch of Vietnam Survivors.

There were three others at the table. All four of these guys had been grunts in Nam. The guy who I met at the bar had got a face full of shrapnel from . . . well, I don't remember from what. Another dude was missing an arm, another had a mangled right hand, and the last guy  . . . the last guy . . . his body was intact but he seemed real nervous and he couldn't look me in the eye and he talked real softly IF he talked at all. Mostly he just sipped at a beer and smoked cigarettes. So, we drank and shot the shit about Nam, we laughed a bit and now then someone would be telling a story and the table would get silent and everybody would shake their heads as to say, "Yeah, I know, man." And then the worst thing happened. "What did you do over there, man?" Shrapnel Face asked. "I was a cook, man," I said. And all of 'em smiled at me. "Good for you, man. Yeah, good for you. You missed that shit, that's good." A while after that I left, jumped on my Honda and rode around. Not sure where I went. I just drove until I barely remembered talking to them guys that day in that bar.

So, what does all this have to do with what's going on now with me? What does that moment in time, in a dark bar, drinking with guys I never really knew, how does it connect to this anger I feel over politics? I don't know. Guys go to a war and they come back all fucked up either physical or mentally or a combination of both. They change from what they were before, young guys  fresh out of high school into very old men sitting in a bar drinking beer, smoking cigarettes and discussing the thing that changed them so drastically, made them older than their real age. I don't know. When I see people misuse politics, when I hear them lie and cheat and berate someone, one of the people running for election, just because they want their "guy" to win. I don't know. It seems to have some kind of relationship to that day with those guys in that bar.

Monday, April o4, 2o16
Energy gets trapped inside a knot of thoughts, of forgotten memory, somehow thought and memory collide causing a emotional train wreck. The first responders stand away, smoking cigarettes, drinking cold drinks in paper cups, they gossip about last nights ball game, the politics of the day, they wait for the wreckage to burn itself out, cool off a bit before searching for any survivors, which looks doubtful. Who could survive a crash as big as this, as red hot as this has become? Hours later they sift through the debris, and to their surprise they discover survivors! Not only a few but all the passengers have made it without a scratch, not a nick. A miracle is what it must be! A miracle!

Thursday, April o7, 2o16

A couple of hawks, a vulture too. All three drifting on gusting winds. No complaints from them. They sail like ships, hovering, diving deep towards the wild grass, looking I'm thinking for a field mouse, a rabbit perhaps. Very little effort on their part the gusting breeze appears to be doing all the work. Norman is a pretty crowded town particularly during the semester when the students are still around. Even more populated on Saturday Game Days. But if you feel a little claustrophobic during the year, it's only a twenty minute (or less) drive down East Alameda  to Thunderbird Lake. Oklahoma  countryside is just 11.6 miles (or less) from my Trout Avenue home. I'm not much for the Nature thing, you know? Always felt that "She" was out to get me and every other human being. Yes, for bears and hawks and fish and such Nature is natural. But for human beings? A city, sidewalks, paved roads, a convenient store no more than a block walking distance is MY natural environment. But now and then it's nice to get out of town, take pics of wildlife (when possible) forests, and . . . and  . . . hawks drifting against a clear blur sky. Yeah, that kind of nature I like, once in a while.